Labour Story

Everyone has such a wonderful labour story, but no, not me! What better way to start off my blog than to tell you the ordeal I had to go through to meet my baby? Sit tight.

Wednesday the 16th of March

8:00am

The day it all began. I woke up in absolute agony, I was 3 days overdue and had been praying for something to happen for the past 3 weeks – I even resorted to walking up and down the stairs sideways, eating vindaloos, and every other home induction myth you can possibly think of. I was so overjoyed to be in pain because, to be frank, I would’ve done anything to get him out at that point. He was back to back with me which I conveniently only found out about in the last week of my pregnancy, and even though I was a bit devastated, I didn’t think it would make THAT much difference.. ha! I could barely walk. I crawled out of bed, Anthony drove off to work and I promised I’d let him know when my contractions became more regular so he could come home. At this point my contractions were every 20 – 25 minutes.

8:00pm

I turned up at hospital to see if anything was happening, and just as we pulled into the car park (the hospital was a 25 minute drive away) my contractions suddenly stopped. I wanted to cry. I phoned my mam who told me just to go in anyway and have the baby monitored, and when I went in, the nurses weren’t shy in telling me that I had wasted their time and would be going straight back home. Just before I left, they told me I wasn’t having contractions, but did, in fact, have a water infection. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never heard of a water infection that gives you strong stomach and back pains every twenty minutes, but hey, she’s a health professional… right? She must’ve been bloody fantastic because she came to that conclusion without even monitoring me.

Thursday the 17th of March

2:00am

The pains returned, but this time, with an almighty bang. I was having contractions every 10 minutes, so of course, being in absolute agony, I made Anthony drive me back to the hospital. Again when we got there they said I would just be going back home because my contractions weren’t regular enough. They still didn’t even monitor me, and told me to take paracetamol. Paracetamol doesn’t even get rid of a headache, how is it supposed to help contractions?

8:00pm

Throughout the day, my contractions got even stronger and I was crying in pain at some point every hour. I was on and off the phone to the delivery suite who told me not to bother going back until my contractions were every 3 minutes. I phoned the maternity day unit and told them that the baby had reduced movements. I was starting to worry because I’d barely felt anything for two days, and I just didn’t feel like any of them were taking me seriously. When I got there, they finally monitored the baby (he was absolutely fine) and I was given a sweep by such a wonderful woman who actually had empathy, unlike her workmates, to hurry up the contractions, but again was sent home exhausted and upset. I was only 3cm dilated and felt like I had been in labour forever.

Friday the 18th of March

1:00am

I decided enough was enough and I turned up unannounced and demanded they give me pain relief. They had no choice but to admit me. They FINALLY gave me diamorphine so I could go to sleep, because at this point I hadn’t slept for 2 days. All I could think was how on earth am I going to push this baby out?

9:00am

I had managed to get 2 hours sleep and I woke up to yet another monotonous doctor who told me they were sending me home, again, and they were “kindly” going to move my induction date to the 23rd as opposed to the 25th. Judging by the tone of her voice, I think she genuinely believed she was doing me a favour this way. I burst out crying. I wanted to punch her in the face. I was so done, I could not deal with another 5 days of this pain. I felt like taking him out of my stomach myself.

1:00pm

Another nurse turned up with my discharge notes and I begged her to check if there was any progress in my lady parts. I was 6cm dilated and I was so relieved. I can’t believe they were going to send me home. I practically leaped out of the bed and almost rugby tackled Anthony when I went to cuddle him.

3:00pm

I was moved to the delivery suite, where I was given more diamorphine and gas and air. I have to admit, none of them worked. I felt like my back was breaking every time I got a contraction.

5:00pm

They decided they were going to break my waters. I still wasn’t past 6cm, and the contractions were staying the same intensity which was bearable, but still very uncomfortable. I was convinced I would have him before midnight.

9:00pm

They put me on the hormone drip to start my induction, and I actually didn’t have a clue what was to come. When people say you just know when you’re in active labour, it’s true. I thought my pains before were bad, but I felt like having all of my bones broken at once probably wouldn’t have been as painful.

11:00pm

I was still 6cm, and I literally couldn’t go on any longer without the epidural. My contractions were every minute and a half, and I begged my midwife to get the anaesthetist to hurry up. I probably was only waiting about 45 minutes but it felt like 6 years. Every time she came back in the room, I was praying that he was close behind, and he just wasn’t. I swear he actually took forever. I was always against the epidural, but I have never felt so much physical relief in all of my life. It took about 5 minutes and the pain was gone, and about 5 more for me to fall asleep.

Saturday the 19th of March

1:00am

I was checked again and was still 6cm. My heart was broken because I knew what this meant. It had been 12 hours and I hadn’t progressed at all. The baby was trying his hardest to get out, but couldn’t because of his position. We finally got round to discussing a Cesearean Section, and I reluctantly agreed it was the best option. I could barely keep my eyes open and I think all of the staff knew that the baby would start to get very stressed very soon if we weren’t to get him out.

02:40am

O was born via Cesarean Section. He stared at me with his amazing blue eyes and I instantly forgot all about the stress of the last few days and couldn’t take my eyes off him. Everything I had been through was totally worth it, because I ended up with the most amazing little boy with the most amazing eyes and the thickest long brown hair.

Have you ever blogged about your labour story? Link it below so I can have a read x

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About

I'm Fern, 22, mum to a beautiful little boy named Oscar and currently pregnant with our second son, due April 2018. Lover of a sarcastic GIF and a good ol' whinge. Master at kicking toys under the couch and pretending they don't exist.